


Just Friends?

by wyntirrose



Series: Trials and Blessings [12]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-13
Updated: 2006-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-10 00:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyntirrose/pseuds/wyntirrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it takes a gentle nudge for friends to become more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Friends?

It had started out so innocently that no one even noticed it beginning. But after a while, even the most obtuse of Autobots noticed it. Sometimes it was a touch that was held too long. Other times, a glance that lingered was cut off too abruptly. Soon they were actively avoiding each other. One would enter a room, and the other would leave. Shifts were arranged so that they were never together for any length of time. And yet, those lingering glances and gentle touches continued.

Soon, Sideswipe was taking covert bets on how long it would take the mechs in question to clue in and acknowledge that there was something between them. With the kitty at almost 20 barrels of high grade, and Smokescreen's chosen date arrived, he decided to take matters into his own hands. It wasn't cheating. Not exactly, anyway. It was just gentle persuasion. So, with Wheeljack's help, Smokescreen arranged for Prowl and Ratchet to have a little accident.

***

"So why does Wheeljack need us both here for this demonstration?" Prowl asked.

"I'd imagine that he's finally come to terms with the fact that he's going to blow something up," Ratchet grumbled. "As for you, all he'd say was that this new invention of his will have a tactical advantage on the battlefield."

"Hey guys! You're here, great!" Wheeljack said, popping up from behind a console. "Just stand over there and I'll get this baby up and running!" he added, motioning to a small boxed off area to the left of the console.

Both mechs moved to the indicated area, but as they approached, Prowl's battle computer began to warn him that something was amiss.

"Okay, guys. Ready? Great! You're gonna love this!" Wheeljack said, too quickly, too eagerly.

Prowl knew then that something was up, but before he could react, there was a sudden flash from above and a heavy metal plate dropped from the ceiling. Prowl grabbed Ratchet by the arm and flung them both out of the plate's way. Unfortunately, that left them in the boxed off area, behind the plate. They were trapped.

"Great! Just great!" Ratchet said, staring around the newly created enclosure.

"Wheeljack!" Prowl yelled. "What happened?"

"Uhm …. It was, uh … what? Oh yeah. It was just a bit of a miscalculation," Wheeljack replied. "We'll- I mean, I'll have you out as quickly as I can."

"We? We who? Who's out there with you?" Ratchet demanded.

"Uhm … nobody?" Wheeljack called back. "Look, just give me a bit of time. I'll figure a way to get you out. … I just, uhm, have to … go get Hoist! Be right back!"

"What? Wait, Wheeljack!" Ratchet slammed his fist against the newly created blockage, and then let out a string of expletives as something in his hand bent awkwardly.

"Here, let me see that," Prowl said, reaching out to take Ratchet's damaged hand.

"I'm fine," Ratchet replied, pulling away from Prowl.

"Come on, you're leaking and you've scraped your hand up pretty bad," Prowl said as he stepped closer.

"I'm fine and you're not a medic," Ratchet protested, backing away until he found that his back was against the wall and he had nowhere else to go.

"I've taken the basic field courses in first aid, now stop being stubborn," Prowl ordered, reaching out and taking Ratchet's hand in his.

He pulled a cloth from his pocket and began to gently clean the fluid from the back of Ratchet's damaged hand. He'd never really paid attention to the medic's hands before. They were strong and covered with a delicate network of scars. He imagined that the scars were from years of working with the sharp metallic insides of damaged cybertronians. How many of these scars were caused by his work on the twins alone? As he continued to wipe the fluid off of Ratchet's hand, entranced by the medic's long fingers, he was torn out of his contemplation by Ratchet's rough voice.

"Could you stop that, please?" Ratchet asked in a hoarse whisper. Prowl looked at the medic and saw that his optics had become a deep indigo.

Ratchet took his hand back, moved to the other side of the enclosure, and sat on the floor with his back to the wall.

"I – I'm sorry?" Prowl said, confused.

"Just … I, uhm, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't touch my hands. I can clean up myself," Ratchet muttered, not making eye contact with Prowl.

"Okay," Prowl said, moving to sit against the opposite wall. It was strange, but he was actually feeling hurt.

The two sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. Prowl occasionally looked over at Ratchet and found him staring then looking away quickly. The silence continued and it became obvious to both that Wheeljack wasn't coming back any time soon. Finally, the silence and tension in the little chamber became so deep that it was almost palpable.

"All right, this is ridiculous," Prowl said. "What did I do that was so awful, Ratchet?"

Ratchet looked at Prowl intently, as if gauging the meaning of the question. Then he sighed and replied, sounding almost embarrassed. "It's just that a medic's hands are one of his tools," Ratchet said. Then he continued when it was obvious that Prowl wasn't getting it. "A medic's hands are … particularly sensitive."

"Yeah? And? … Oh!" Prowl said, the realization of the situation suddenly dawning on him. "Oh, sorry …"

"It's okay. I …" Ratchet paused awkwardly. "Don't worry, its okay," he said softly. Ratchet looked at Prowl, obviously looking to say more, but he censored himself before he said anything.

Prowl felt a confused flutter in his fuel tank.

"What?" he asked, looking at Ratchet and feeling his fuel pump beat a little faster. "What is it?"

"I just … I … never mind. It's nothing," Ratchet stumbled. Suddenly he stood up and began knocking on the plate with his good hand.

"Wheeljack?" he called out. "You still there? How much longer 'till you get us out of here?"

Prowl watched Ratchet stalk the room like a caged animal. He was everything that Prowl wasn't. He was crude and emotional. His language would make the most hardened spacer blush. He was irrational and … and … there was just something about him that Prowl didn't understand. He hated things that he couldn't quantify, and yet he found himself staring at him, unable to look away.

"This is ridiculous!" Ratchet railed, continuing to pace. "Wheeljack has probably forgotten about us. He's gone and gotten himself involved in one of Hoist's projects!"

Prowl watched the activity, and then made a sudden and surprising decision. He stood up, and before he could change his mind he strode up to Ratchet. The medic's tirade was suddenly cut off as Prowl grabbed his chin and kissed him.

"I .. what?" Ratchet said, pulling away from Prowl slightly.

"Shut up, Ratch'," Prowl whispered, and kissed Ratchet again.

Ratchet froze, then after a moment, he returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around Prowl. Their kiss deepened and Ratchet's hands moved to stroke an armour joint on Prowl's back. Prowl moaned softly, his hands finding Ratchet's hip struts and gently working their way around the joints. Ratchet's hands moved further over Prowl's body, finding spots that he never even knew were sensitive.

"Leave it to a medic to know exactly where to touch a mech," Prowl thought, far in the back of his mind. He broke off the kiss, and moved to nip Ratchet's neck gently, drawing a ragged moan from his vocalizer.

Ratchet worked his fingers into a particularly sensitive spot on Prowl's shoulder, and then suddenly he pulled back with a cry, cradling his injured hand.

"Oh! Ratchet, I'm sorry! Are you okay?" Prowl asked, voice filled with concern, trying to get a look at the hand that Ratchet was hiding.

"I, yeah, I'm fine. I think I need to look at this in the medbay," Ratchet said. "Prowl? I'm sorry, I … uhm … what just happened here?"

Prowl's optics widened then he chuckled. "I hadn't realized that I was doing it that badly."

Ratchet smiled, then quickly hid it. "I'm serious," he said. "Where did this come from?"

"I think it's been there for a while," Prowl said, somewhat hesitantly. "I think we just needed a push, maybe?"

"Yeah, maybe …," Ratchet replied slowly.

Suddenly, Prowl began to question the impulsive decision to kiss Ratchet.

"I'm sorry, Ratchet," Prowl said, turning away. "It was a momentary lapse, and it won't happen again."

Prowl stopped as he felt a hand grasp his shoulder. Ratchet turned him around, and kissed him gently.

"I'd rather it did," Ratchet whispered. "I'm just a little … thrown off at the moment. You understand, right?"

Prowl nodded and drew Ratchet close in a hug.

It was at that point that Wheeljack got the plate back up where it belonged.

"See?" said Smokescreen, motioning to the couple. "I told you it would work."

Both Prowl's and Ratchet's optics narrowed.

"Well, I hope that your winnings are worth it," Hoist commented. "Because I think those two are going to make your life miserable for the next while."


End file.
